Constantine and the Cough

Still coughing and weezing. I can breathe better, but whatever crud I've been fighting the last week has staying power. Laurie bought me a vaporizer which is helping me sleep. I added Sudafed to the meds arsenal today. My bathroom counter is starting to look like the back wall at Walgreens. Still, despite all the medication I'm staying remarkably cogent. At least I think I am.

Watched Constantine tonight. As a Christian I'm always curious anytime Hollywood takes on the subject of God and Satan. Plus, another Christian friend, but not one I'd peg as into comic book-based films, said he kind of liked it. And, I'll admit, I'm more than a little intrigued by Keanu Reeve's apparent fascination with messianic roles.
On an artistic level, I think the movie is very well done. The visuals are compelling, the story is actually decent and there are some nuggets of truth, theologically speaking. Yes, there are extensive liberties taken with the Bible and theology, but I expected that. Hollywood can't even do a movie based on events it knows the vast majority of its audience witnessed with their own eyes without "adaptation". I entertained zero delusions that a film based on a comic book's adaptation of the "struggle" between God and the Devil would bear any resemblence to what scripture has to say about it. This is probably why I was surprised to find what little congruity that I did.
If I had to take issue with anything in the film it would be the implication that good and evil are equal, or somehow in balance. I think good is entirely capable of existing without evil. Good is. Evil is a parasite. It cannot create. It can only destroy or twist. When evil sets out to deceive, it has to use elements of truth to do so. The movie itself, though the plot says otherwise, actually kind of affirms this in parts. Without giving anything away, the biggest affirmation is actually the main plot point, but I'll spare you any more of my theological musings. It's a decent flick.

Had a great time Saturday. Laurie was down and we went to Skateland for MacKenna's 8th. Little did I know, but Laurie is actually a pretty accomplished roller skater. It was kind of cool watching her zip around the rink when she wasn't helping one of the little girls stay on their feet. I sat rinkside, chillin' with my nephew Levi who, when he wasn't pooping, sleeping or feeding, seemed fairly mesmerized by the lights and all the people going round and round. I haven't wore skates since 1985. And when I did, I had no business being in them. I always thought it would be cool to learn to roller boogie, but got tired of it. Actually my butt did. Laurie says I need to get back in that particular saddle. Guess I will, but it won't be pretty. Not at first, anyway.
That evening we did the dinner-and-a-movie thing at Mike and Traci's. Traci made a killer pot of Italian beef and some tasty cheesy potatoes. After getting bloated on LaBatt's Blue and beef, we adjourned to the sitting room for a screening of Tommy Boy. I had acquired the "Holy Schnike" special 2-disc version earlier that day. Laurie had never seen it. I told her it was a romantic comedy. Not only did she get a kick out of it, but she managed to stay awake through the whole thing, too. Since I'm already in trouble, let me go ahead and explain why that last part is significant. It's the only DVD we've watched together. Oh, we've watched the first 30 minutes of several together, but my self-described ADD girl is usually dozing off about the time the opening credits are through. That she found Tommy Boy funny enough to stay awake for is just another testament to the power of this classic. And I'm dead.
Time for bed.